


Boys Weekend

by fake_years



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Dark Original Percival Graves, Incest, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Step-son/Step-father, be the change you want to see in the world and here i am, that just means i'm insatiable for step parent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:53:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fake_years/pseuds/fake_years
Summary: Credence is unsettled by the way his stepfather makes him feel.





	Boys Weekend

Credence’s mother left for Dallas on Friday. This marked the first weekend Credence would be alone with his step father since the wedding. 

Credence attempts to treat it like any other day. He scrapes the remains of gnawed pizza crust into the trash while keeping on the bag’s yellow ties. He’s attempting to not overthink, and today that means not thinking about the tupperware cabinet. Inside is a Leaning Tower of Pisa of square containers and rectangle lids. Untouched. Credence lifts his bare foot where it’s stuck to the linoleum and tells himself it wasn’t wrong to eat without Percival. 

Up to this point, Credence had been content to restrict his and Percival’s interactions to pleasantries. The idea that this weekend might require more had Credence on edge. It wasn’t fear of harm. Percival had always been kind to him. His stepfather made a point to ask about Credence’s day. Sometimes he even slipped Credence a ten dollar bill for fast food or other unnecessary luxuries, usually with a wink and a good natured pat on the shoulder. The problem was solely with Credence. He intended to stay out of Percival’s way to the best of his abilities.

Gears of War is running when headlights flash across his bedroom walls. Credence stops playing and listens to the engine die outside. He wonders if he imagined the sound of dress shoes climbing the stairs, walking past his room. Percival might knock on his door at any second. With his mother gone, it made sense for Percival to check on Credence once he’d changed from his work clothes. The game action is paused on the options menu.

Credence can’t focus while remaining so attuned to the slightest indication of Percival nearing his room. He instinctively pictures his stepfather in the next room over - his mind’s eye conjure Percival standing in front of the master bathroom mirror. He’s just standing. Then, Percival’s hands move to the collar of his shirt. He flips it up to begin removing his tie. The silk slides off easily and falls to the carpet. He leaves it because there’s no one there to demand he straighten up. In Credence’s mind, Percival begins to thumb open the buttons of his shirt. More and more of his chest is exposed. Credence can see the way salt and pepper chest hair continues down to a thatch below his belly button and disappears below his slacks. The shirt is also dropped to the ground. Percival reaches to undo his belt buckle.

The light from Credence’s TV screen dims drastically as it switches to power saving mode. Credence starts upright at being plunged into darkness. He can already feel that he’s almost fully hard and his pulse is jumping. He has a semi and his legs prickle with the threat to go numb. Typically in this situation, Credence tries to convince himself of things he dislikes about Percival: his heavy brows, his too-furry arms, his broad fingernails stained a slight yellow from a past smoking habit. 

But sometimes the breadth of his shoulders or intensity of his stare make Credence’s breath catch in his throat. Teachers, neighbors, even strangers had all commented on Percival’s looks since he’d started dating Credence’s mother. Sometimes Credence resented her for it. Did she enjoy making a scene? His life would be so much easier if she'd married any other Jo Shmo. As it was, Credence got nervous over breakfast as if Percival were a crush at school. The heat in his gut wouldn’t leave until he had touched himself, sniffing back tears as he bit his pillow and came to the thoughts of Percival fucking him. He’d imagine his stepfather easing inside of him, one hand threaded through Credence’s hair and the other holding Credence’s hip.

Here and now on Credence’s bedroom floor, the air is hot and muggy thanks to an overheated gaming console and a swift spring thaw. Credence presses between his legs to ease the insistent throb. He groans out loud before he can stop himself. His Frosty the Snowman-printed pajama bottoms provide no concealment for his erection. Credence decides to ignore it. He needs some air. He crawls forward and hovers a shaky pointer finger over the Xbox’s power button until it shuts off.

Credence is walking to the kitchen when his phone slips from his hand. It rebounds off the final stair and lands with a reverberating smack. Credence doesn’t move at first. He feels embarrassed, but can’t explain why. Percival might think Credence had broken something, or he might simply be annoyed at the interruption. The silence feels heavy with disapproval. After an internal debate, Credence turns slowly towards the master bedroom. He blocks out any other thoughts once he’s made up his mind. 

He knocks twice before cracking the bedroom door. His hand keeps the handle clenched tight, so as to avoid the loud snap of the latch popping back into place. Credence looks up to see Percival on the bed wearing an undershirt stretched out around the collar and a pair of hunter-green sweats.The gray hairs around his ears are damp from a recent shower. An IBM laptop is balanced on his outstretched thighs. Credence stands frozen with his arm self-consciously in front of his body. He recognizes his mother’s mauve striped comforter from childhood. Several wedding photos decorate the bedroom vanity.

“I’m sorry about the noise.”

“Oh?” Percival looks up from his screen, the blue light reflecting off his glasses. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’ve been buried in work. Didn't hear a thing.”

Credence’s shoulders hunch inward. “M’sorry to bother you then.” He feels too warm. His body is aroused and alert simply being under Percival’s gaze. There’s no reason for him to be here, yet Credence’s legs are strangely hesitant to walk out. Percival watches. He removes his reading glasses and sets them on the bedside table. Credence tenses in anticipation of some kind of criticism or disparagement. His mind culls for anything and everything that Percival might reprimand him for. 

“I’m glad you’re here actually,” Percival says. “I’ve been meaning for us to chat.” 

“You have?” 

“Yes. But no need to worry. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Percival reassures with a small smile. “Make yourself at home.”

Credence inches forward, before stopping in his tracks. He has no idea what this is, or what the conversation might entail. His limbs feel foreign, as if he’s forgotten how to behave in front of Percival. He stalls besides his mother’s favorite lamp. It has a brass stand topped with a shade of stained glass designed to resemble peacock feathers. 

“Did you want me to sit there? On the bed?” 

“Wherever you’d like.” His smile is frozen in place.

Credence forces himself to the very foot of the mattress. When he looks over, Percival has an eyebrow raised in expectation. It takes a moment, but Credence realizes he’s meant to come closer. There is nothing Percival dislikes more than raising his voice or repeating himself, he had made that clear. He would often wait for Credence to come to him before beginning a conversation. Credence shuffles himself across the bedspread, stress ramping up as the distance decreased, until Percival appears satisfied. 

“I know it’s not your favorite subject.” Percival says, somber yet not unkind. “But I understand you aren’t going to your senior prom. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I thought I wouldn't. If that's ok.”

“I only hope it isn’t because of your...preferences.” Percival tries to meet Credence’s eyes even as the boy turns away from him. “Your mother and I agree that it shouldn't change anything.”

“Mom told you?” Credence’s stomach drops. He’d been stupid and naive. He should have realized his mother would tell her husband after finding out her only son might be attracted to men. 

“There's nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

Credence nods without hearing him. “Can I go now?”

A large hand slides over his knee. Credence is stunned by the weight of Percival’s thumb brushing over the fleece covering his leg. Credence feels aroused, quickly followed by shame for being aroused. If he shuts his eyes, he can hear the juniors in geometry, hissing with laughter at the back of his neck. _“Hey Credo, it true you blow guys behind the school?” “I heard he’s got one of those micro dicks.” “I think Credence has the same purse. Do you, Creed?” “Your boyfriend like that haircut?”_

“...worry about you.”

Credence blinks up at Percival in confusion. Despite being miles away Credence still feels anxiety from the classroom rising. When he does speak, he has to bite his lip to keep from stuttering. “You don’t have to worry. Nobody notices me.”

“Oh I very much doubt that.” Percival says. “You just don’t realize how other people see you. It's very easy for someone to take advantage of that.”

“What do you mean?” 

“There's so much you don't know, buddy. Some guy might use that to his advantage. Sex is more than they teach in school. Unless you don't want your stepfather teaching you about sex.” 

“Teach me.” Credence begs before he can stop himself. 

Percival's mouth twitches. His eyes look less cautious now. They're more wolfish, more calculating. The difference is striking. Percival’s hand kneads harder where he’s touching Credence’s leg. His free hand slips up the boy's arm. Credence tries not to react. Percival rubs along his shoulder up to the sensitive skin at the back of Credence's neck. Credence would purr if not for the modicum of shame stopping him.

“Pay close attention.” Percival moves to cup his cheek, his voice gone taut.

“Yes. Yes, sir.” Credence swallows his fear. Percival’s thumb rubs against the seam of Credence’s lips. He hears himself whine. His parted mouth drags against Percival’s knuckles and some of his spit wets his stepfather's skin. His jaw hangs slack, starved for something he doesn’t even fully understand. The self-aware part of Credence that sees this and hates it. Humiliation stings his eyes.

“Let’s start by standing in front of me.” 

He follows Percival’s eyes to the area of rug. Credence’s legs are shaky under him as he steps into place. 

“You trust me, don't you Credence?” Percival asks. Both hands are already on Credence’s thighs. 

Credence nods again. His mind has already started conjuring justifications for their situation - standing in his mother’s bedroom with his stepfather’s hands all over him. Touching him that way. He breathes in and out through his nose. Percival lightly tugs at Credence’s fleece sleep-pants. 

“Will you take these off for me?”

"My pajamas?”

Credence answers the heat in Percival’s stare. He slips both thumbs into the elastic waistband. An intrusive, panicked thought wonders if he's misunderstood somehow. Credence catches a glimpse of Percival reaching beside the bed with both hands ready to reveal himself. He shimmies to reveal the beginnings of his pubic hair. The room is silent except for the buzz of electronics and their breathing. Credence eases past the protrusion of his hardening dick until he’s completely exposed to his mother's husband. The cartoon of Frosty is still waving back at him from the floor. The overhead fan circulates and sends a chill over his exposed thighs. Percival groans at the sight of him.

His pets along Credence’s inner legs. Meanwhile, Credence bites the inside of his cheek to keep from twitching or fainting from the adrenaline rush. Percival spreads his hands wider and Credence’s breathing stutters. His stepfather makes a noise of approval as the boy moves his legs further apart. Both hands glide around his hips and squeeze as if inspecting. They finally reach around to massage Credence’s ass. A hard cock is on full display at Percival’s eye level. 

Percival stops only to squeeze several drops of lubricant into his hand. He watches as he begins to stroke the delicate skin of Credence’s balls. The boy trembles. His eyes are shut, letting out short hiccuped moans. Percival has Credence’s balls and the underside of his cock slippery with lubricant. Excess liquid drips onto the floor. Percival’s own cock tents his sweatpants as he calmly toys with his stepson’s erection. 

“What a pretty thing," Percival coos, "I'm hard too. See? You make me harder than mommy does.”

Credence's conscience startles awake. His hands flutter as if to cover himself before clenching them into fists. “I shouldn’t do this,” he whispers in a panic. His cock bobs in the air, as rigid as ever. “I’m - we can’t. I'll be in trouble.”

Percival shushes him with a shake of his head. He continues playing with Credence despite the boy writhing in mild protest. He slides his hand faster over the shaft. The motion sways Credence towards him. Percival licks his lips. “You can, Credence. You wouldn't want to make me upset would you? Don't you want to make me happy?”

“Please.” Credence whines. His balls are so tight that he feels ready to come any second. He can hardly remember why he protested with the building pleasure of Percival’s touch. His stepfather’s other hand slides up Credence’s shirt to touch his chest and back. 

“You’re going to take my cock just like mommy.”

He takes out his own cock so that it juts over the waist of his sweats. “Kneel down.”

Credence falls between Percival’s legs with watery eyes. The soft head of the other man's cock rubs against his chin, then his tongue. Credence is drunk from his need to come. He'd been so close. His erection goes unattended. A tear falls, yet he rubs himself along with the rhythm of Percival against his tongue. Before either registers it, Credence is fervently sucking the head to quiet his own moans. His orgasm comes like a punch to the gut. Percival pulls back so that his cum splashes across the column of Credence's throat. 

After the fact, Percival consoles Credence. He swears it won’t happen again.

Except it does happen again, again. They kiss for the first time in the backyard. Credence drank spiked lemonade and Percival several beers. His mother is washing dishes. Their skin is covered in sweat and bug spray from a day of family chores. They fuck in Credence’s room late at night, trying making as little noise as possible. He can still feel Percival's clammy hand over his nose and mouth. He can still feel the whimpers stuck in his throat. Credence can’t find the courage to refuse. He’s never come as hard as when Percival whispers about Credence taking his mother's place. Credence tells himself that he’ll do the right thing soon. He'll turn Percival away. Next time.


End file.
